


Strahd's Holy Mass

by Lokuro



Series: Curse of Strahd Verse [2]
Category: Curse of Strahd - Fandom, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: (and I am really sorry for that ._. if nothing else in this fic), Blood Drinking, Blood and Injury, Curse of Strahd, Death of an NPC, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, M/M, Spells are just as bad as drugs, Spoiler: he fails, Strahd is trying to have fun, Vampires, of course, references to real church services so probably best avoided if that's not your cup of tea, vampires in a church, would could go wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25362490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokuro/pseuds/Lokuro
Summary: Author's note: It all started as a joke (as is always does). Somebody in our CoS group chat mentioned vampires, an old church, an orgy, priest's robes, and the things you could do with them. Of cause I had to write it. Good, old-fashioned, Gothic porn - sounds fun, or so I thought. Unfortunately, the vampires did not cooperate and it went in a slightly different direction...The vivid vampire harem characterization belongs to our amazing DM ♥! (she also genderbent Ludmila in a hot Vistan guy Ludmil because, seriously, Strahd is supposed to be bi and he only has Escher? Come on, let him have some fun in his grey, joyless life!).Mind the warnings.
Relationships: Strahd von Zarovich/everyone
Series: Curse of Strahd Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802551
Kudos: 13





	Strahd's Holy Mass

An old church laid silent in the night.

The only sounds to disturb the drowsy tranquillity were the distant echoes of ghostly night birds. Their soft calls floated into the old building through the shards of stained glass windows, broken so long ago that now it was anybody's guess what scene from the Holy Deeds of the Father of the Morning Light they were initially depicting. Only fragments of his body remained, his hands outstretched in blessing to some suffering soul to ease their pain and despair. Now, a mocking gesture of a helping hand outstretched to the darkness outside of the shredded glass. The bird cries also brought a whiff of chill autumn breeze with them. Fresh and crisp it slowly sunk into the stale air of the church like a spot of colourful ink lazily curling downwards through thick syrup. Every movement slow and unhurried in the dusty, stale air.

In the sleepy silence, a long-suffering grating sound came from the entrance, and the heavy wooden doors were pushed aside. The doors gave in to the inhuman strength, but they opened up unwillingly. As if vaguely remembering that the entering creatures were somehow unwelcome upon the once holy ground, if not the exact reason behind that past imperative. Five hooded figures stepped inside the church. They wore heavy dark robes, the shining white of their collars and habits a stark contrast to the black attire. Gold and jewels gleamed on their breasts. Holy symbols, inverted and slightly off, yet still glamourous in their splendour. 

The figures did not hurry; they seemed to flow with unearthly grace, like a flock of angels sent down from heaven to wake the dusty chapel from its centuries-old slumber with their divine presence. The first two figures who entered the church were a dark-skinned handsome man and a woman with blond locks, not unlike a Madonna in her appeal. The woman carried a handful of cushions. Their soft pink clashed with the unkempt state of the church, and she giggled as she arranged them on the nearby bench, "Aren't they such an improvement on the decor, Ludmil?" Ludmil did not seem entirely convinced as he rolled out a crimson carpet that almost disappeared in the darkness of the church, "Couldn't you find something more befitting to the ambience?"

"Don't be such a snob, they have special perfume infused to them, and I'd hate to waste it." With this remark, Anastrasya winked and stepped aside to let the next newcomer into the church.

The other woman could not have been a sharper contrast to her. Tall and wiry, clearly somebody who was used to wielding a weapon, she had a commanding look that only came with real power. It felt natural to follow her into the battle or to carry out her instructions. Surely, any order coming from that calm, poised face could only be sensible. She also carried something which at a nearer inspection turned out to be whips, from the classic cat o' nine tails to riding crops and something really vicious-looking that already hurt just by glancing at it.

At last, two smaller figures entered the church. A boy so fair, and timid, and tearful, one only wanted to hold him close, and stroke his pretty blond locks and reassure him that, yes, Escher dear, everything is going to be alright, don't you cry. The girl at his side was petite, with huge bright eyes of a porcelain doll and the same fragile beauty. Her expression was dreamy, with a wistfulness of somebody who gazed into a much more beautiful world than this and was constantly surprised to find that the harsh reality was still there each time she blinked. While Escher carried a few vials and bottles and was already aghast with fear that he might break them, the girl, Volenta, calmly mounted candles in empty candlesticks and candelabras. A small flame flickered up, and a warm glow filled the church. It lightened the dusty corners and painted dancing, uneasy shadows on the stone walls. It reflected in the shreds of glass in the empty windows where the uncertain flickers seemed to wink at the merry company.. 

Unsure if they should proceed without their master, they glanced at each other until a simultaneous telepathic approval reached them. Ludmil and Anastrasya moved first, almost in unison. She kneeled on the carpet, her head bashfully low, and he circled her with short gliding steps as if drawing a smooth circle around a dancing partner. He laid a hand on top of her head, dark skin against blond locks, stroking her lazily, indulgently, "Were you good, my sister?"  
"I've been naughty, Father."  
A spark of giggle escaped her. Unable to keep a straight face, Anastrasya started chuckling on her knees, utterly destroying the already shaky image of a demure nun.

On the other side of the carpet, Escher steeled himself. Apart from Ludmil, he was the only man here, and maybe he should start by approaching one of the other ladies! Sasha stopped him before he could even voice a polite request. The faintest disapproving curl of her lips discouraged him of all intentions, and he took a careful step back, afraid she might follow him. Instead, he turned to Volenta. She was always rather nice and very silent, albeit a bit scary, but who in their castle wasn't? Volenta first scoffed at his approach but seeing his pleading face took pity. She extended a delicate hand and let him plant a hesitant kiss on her fingers. He was getting somewhere! 

Some more giggling and fumbling followed, and then the doors creaked anew. This time, the old wood did not protest the intrusion. Where this man set his foot, all holiness fleed and crouched in the farthest corner, whimpering in fear and adoration. Strahd entered the church. He wore a long black robe without any adornments except a thin strip of white collar at his throat. His august presence was all darkness and a pale face, the only spot of colour were his eyes, blood-red and cold as the judging day. His gaze was grave, as he looked upon the vampires who froze sensing their master. He looked at the scene for what seemed a very long time. Judging his vampires and their efforts and finding both wanting. But instead of a scolding remark, his lips turned into a condescending smile.

"My children! Your spirit is weak, but you are all beloved by me, and I will renew your faith." And with an easy step, he approached the altar and dutifully venerated it with an intense kiss. Every vampire in the church felt an unexpected sting of jealousy of the dusty old stone. Slowly, Strahd turned to his flock. Five pairs of eyes followed his every movement as he extended his hands in a grand gesture, "Kneel and receive my blessings."

Five graceful creatures draw nearer to the altar and kneeled on the stone floor, far from all the trinkets and toys they brought. A strangely solemn feeling draped their mirth as they looked up to the altar and their Lord. 

"Brethren, let us acknowledge our sins," a flash of fangs, amused at the official turn of phrase which ironically only demanded an acknowledgement not the rejection of their numerous sins, "and so prepare ourselves to celebrate the sacred mysteries of Eternal Life." A brief pause for silence to fill the church with calm and for sweet reminiscence about their latest sins to fill their heads with pleasant memories. Then a faint murmur of dissonant voices, "I confess to my almighty Lord that I have greatly sinned."

"I am pleased to hear it, my children, and will have mercy on you. I pardon you and bring you to everlasting life."

The absolution, his beloved voice, and the pride she could hear in it, pride in his creations, and love, so much love, made Volenta bow until her forehead met the stone floor with an audible sound. Her arms spread beside her as if being crucified, her eyes feverish with devotion. The more cynical Anastrasya only rolled her eyes at this cheap display of affection and regretted that the rough habit hid her voluminous breasts. Now that would make her kneeling in front of Strahd definitely more effective.

Pleased with this pledge of allegiance, Strahd clapped his hands in approval. The low sound reverberated through the church, and the flickering light ceased as if blown out with one powerful gust of wind. In complete silence, the candles rekindled. This time, their flame was red like blood, and its tongues licked hungrily at the stale air.

The doors creaked a third time, and the last guest appeared — a young human girl, barefoot, with her hair unbound. A scared little thing, only clad in a thin nightgown, it was a wonder, she did not freeze to death on her way here. Yet she stepped towards the night creatures without any fear, a peaceful smile on her lips. As she grew nearer the vampires could sense the living blood pulsing through her veins and see the full breasts shining darkly through the flimsy garment. Her eyes were glazy as she stood before Strahd, who laid both hands on her shoulders in a protective, soothing gesture.

Ludmil looked hungrily at the girl and then up to his Lord. His eyes were two dark pools of liquid desire, overcast with long lashes. (Nevermind her audible denial, he knew perfectly well that Anastrasya was jealous of them.) The coal around his eyes made them even bigger and more expressive, and as he looked up to Strahd, his voice sounded just as pleading, "May I ask for Your blessing, Lord?", Ludmil crawled a few paces towards Strahd and the sacrifice but haltered bevor reaching the first steps to the altar. Looking up even higher, his gaze now held a renewed devotion. Devotion if not to Strahd himself, then at least to the pulsing immortality he held in his hands. Eternity and Salvation presently sealed in weak, human flesh. A mistake all too easy to fix. This time as Ludmil spoke, his fangs were already flashing, and his voice hoarse, "For may the Lord be in my heart and on my lips that I may proclaim his Gospel worthily and well." 

"Don't be greedy, Ludmil, I love all my children equally", taking it as a cue, Anastrasya crawled a few steps to the altar as well. On her hands and knees, in an almost catlike elegance, she looked gorgeous. Her belly toward the floor, her hips swaying, her bottom moving underneath the robe like a round, perfect apple, inviting a bite like the proverbial fruit.

Strahd waited for the other three vampires to join them, but Escher looked rather paralyzed than animated and Volenta was still crucified on the floor. Strahd's gaze stopped at Sasha. Unyielding, her face calm, she was observing the scene with a sharp gaze but made no move to join into the amusement.

"As my oldest consort, won't you do the honours, my beloved?"

Sasha bowed her head curtly. Unlike others, she stood up and walked towards her Lord, her chin raised. Yet there was no real fight in her step, not anymore. Inside her soul, there still was this core of steel that held her upright and proud, but instead of a living, feeling tissue it supported a dead weight. Not even the spirit of the strongest warrior could endure two hundred years of being Strahd's creature and his lover and not starting to rot. Still. She walked up to him without crawling, and her calm gaze was a blessing amidst the adoration of the others. Strahd smiled at her.

Benevolently, he pushed the human girl towards Sasha and raised his hands in a charitable gesture, "Behold the Sacrificial Lamb of your Lord. Behold she who takes away the sins of the world and will become your spiritual drink." His melodious, soft voice was enchanting, and with a slight push from his hands, the girl amiably went towards that strong-looking woman with straight black hair and earnest gaze.

Sasha gently stroked the girl's cheek. She could feel the warmth sipping through her skin, as the girl pressed her face into the pale hand like a trusting kitten. Her blue eyes were glazed and naive, yet their innocence did not arise from enchantment alone. Sasha tenderly cupped the warm, round face in her hands and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Slowly growing from a light caress to a more heated affair, Sasha's tongue retraced the soft circle of the girl's lips, pressing more desperately to the heat inside her and leaving the girl gasping, making her open up even more, welcoming the intrusion. Not breaking the kiss, Sasha lovingly traced the girl's neck with a long, pale finger. The blood rushed underneath the skin as if struggling to be freed. The kiss wandered deeper, followed the path outlined by the finger, sucking on the warm skin, licking onto it, as if the vampire wanted to reach the blood just by parting the flesh with her pushful tongue.

Just as the girl moaned and went limp with the wet caress, the fangs pierced her skin. A sharp sensation, short and barely noticeable through the fog of pleasure, overflowing her brain each time she could satisfy her master. She gave it up willingly. Stroking Sasha's hair, as the vampire buried even deeper into her flesh. 

Strahd granted Sasha the first kiss, the fist bite. In that sweetest, perfect spot, just under the jaw, between the earlobe and the collarbone. But as she accepted the gift, Strahd gestured for the other to join the feast. The smell of blood stirred even the timid vampires, who up to this point were waiting for the others to claim their first right. All four advanced to the altar. A tug, a push, and the girl was pried from Sasha's hands.

Volenta was holding the girl's hand and smiling at her, as she led her down. Chatting to her as she would to a girl her age, sharing in a secret only the two of them knew. "You have such fine bones, my friend. You know, there is an artwork somewhere in you. Hidden deep inside. But worry not, little one. I will help you set it free", and she intertwined their fingers, now more like lovers than friends. Just two innocent girls experimenting for the first time. Volenta looked the girl into the eyes and raised the warm human hand to her lips. Such nice wrists. So kissable... With her lips blood-red from the kiss and the girl just a shade paler, Volenta gave her a gentle push, and Anastrasya was there to catch her.

"Hello, my darling girl, aren't you the most delicious pumpkin?" Her smile was bright and predatory, but her blond locks and the jewels on her dark robes made her shine like the Great Mother, the goddess of life herself, and the girl smiled at her in return. Playfully, Anstrasya dipped two fingers in the blood still sipping from the bitten wrist and marched them in tiny steps up the girl's arm, "Aren't you having fun, darling?" Without waiting for the answer, Anstraya chuckled at the sight of bloody fingerprints winding up to the girl's elbow. After admiring the little spots of red on rosy white, she bent down to lick the marks with her tongue, quick and teasing. Not unlike a cat licking up the spilt milk. It was a bit ticklish, and the girl relaxed and chuckled back at the funny lady. This time, the bite was sharper and more painful, and the girl almost swayed, as a new rush of blood gushed from the wound into a greedy mouth. "Aren't you such a sweety, go play with daddy now." Another push.

A handsome dark-skinned man caught her, his smile was blinding and white, and something about it was slightly off, but surely, such a beautiful lord meant her no harm. "I welcome you at our Holy Mass", a soft kiss on her lips, a benediction, "and our dinner rendezvous," followed by a flicker of his tongue over her lips, seductive and teasing. He held her courtly in his arms and murmured against her warm skin, a private counsel, just for her, "Strive to enjoy yourself until the very end. A human lifespan is so achingly short, my pretty butterfly. But fear not. I will gladly help you experience as much pleasure as you can before the end." His mouth wandered deeper from her lips to her neck, licking the few droplets of blood from Sasha's kiss, but otherwise leaving the marks untouched, and then down her shoulder. The nightgown was in the way of his caress, so he tore the shirt open without a second thought since he desired to make a detour to one of her fine breasts, so ripe and needy, the nipple teasing and dark, almost begging to be sucked. At least the girl would have nothing to complain about when her soul left the body; the wanton little creature already moaned so deliciously. She was pressing her naked body to his in the hope of more caresses. Or be it just a futile attempt at finding some warmth in the chill autumn air, it was certainly not unwilling. Soft and pliable. Trembling as his hand snaked between her legs, entering just in time with a vicious bite of his fangs into the crook of her elbow. He sucked hard and insistent, but trapped between agony and delight, the girl barely noticed it. Just as he was done and left one last kiss on her cold skin, now tender again, almost regretful, did the pain return. "Fly away, little butterfly, enjoy yourself while you still can."

Escher was the last one to catch the girl when she was almost falling off her feet. Naked and blooded, she looked a terrible mess. Her eyes wild with fear; she even tried to push him off her. The pleasure was diluted by pain, so much pain all over her body, that the last bits of her self-preservation finally reached her mind and were screaming in alarm. Even the masterfully soothing cocoon of enchantment crumbled underneath the primal fear of dying. But by now, the scent of blood filled the old church, and Escher's delicate fingers held her much stronger than his demure look might suggest. The girl sobbed, softly whispering, almost praying, "Please, let me go, please," as tears were running down her cheeks and Escher kissed them softly away. His touch was soothing, "Don't cry, it will get better soon, I promise. The pain will stop." Her tear-filled eyes were such a lovely shade of blue, he realized, so clear, almost translucent. Maybe if he diluted Cerulean Blue with water, he could recreate that gaze. At least something he could do for the poor girl. That is if he managed to capture not only the colour but also her expression. Probably, not. Escher sighed. He pitied her, and himself, and everything unfair in the world. With another sigh, he cleared her face of tears and gently raised her one unbitten hand to his lips, "Please, try to relax. It will stop hurting soon." 

Everything afterwards was a blur, as the vampires joined in on the final kiss. Sharp fangs on her wrists, on her arms, and as Sasha reclaimed her spot, on her neck. Hands all over her body, snatching up the last bits of warmth, trying to reach more of that pulsing heat slowly dissipating from her body. Now she did not moan anymore, she wept. It was too much; her body could not feed five vampires at once, she trembled not with desire but with injury and pain.

Finally, the cries subsided. As the girl grew more and more silent, her eyes pleaded for mercy even louder. Not even the sweetest pheromones could glaze over the pain of dying, and there was so much agony in her blue eyes, already bleached under the blinding shadow of death. And there were still fingers between her legs, hands cupping her breasts and others gently stroking her hair like a mother would calm a fearful child. And there were still those piercing, greedy fangs everywhere. Tearing into her skin, burrowing even deeper to suck the last warmth of her blood.

Sasha hugged the frightened child tightly, pressing the cooling, trembling body onto hers, "Hush, love, there will be no more pain," and mercifully snapped her neck in one swift movement. The girl sank to the floor. A motionless, cold heap. 

Ludmil looked at her with shallow pity and pressed his fingers, still wet from the girl's earlier arousal, to his bloodied lips, "Weren't you a feast, my dear,". He licked the fingers in one slow, deliberate motion and hummed approvingly as the salty wetness mixed with metallic bitterness on his lips.

One would think that feeding would leave them sated; like humans tend to get after a lavish meal, sluggish and heavy, unwilling to move. Instead, it invigorated them. Yet another trait where they were so clearly superior to humankind. As hot, fresh blood filled their stiff bodies, a faint colour returned to their white cheeks. Rosy lips parted in anticipation, arousal already building in their guts, somewhere deep down, where the grunting beasts waited ever since the moment they were turned. The beasts that were always, always hungry.

… Strahd looked down from his vantage position at the altar. The pleasure thickening the air was sweet on his tongue, with an exquisite undertaste of mutual hate of all the participants. Sweating and moaning, they were a perfect picture of debauchery and sin. Each trust of hips, each breathless sob of ecstasy was a prayer to him. Strahd watched his vampires wriggling and undulating on the floor of a church. 

So eager to please him. So, so boring.


End file.
